Freedom in death
by Akimoto True Autumn
Summary: Neji was my favorite character of all time in the Naruto series because of his contemplative temperament, beauty and complexity as a character—I felt there was an indefinite amount of potential still left in his character when Kishimoto-sensei decided to kill him off so I wrote this in tribute of him.


Freedom in death

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The first thing Hyuuga Neji registers is the excruciating pain.

Sharp needles skewer his abdomen, his shoulder, his chest. With his vision blurred with dirt and sweat, it almost takes a second before he sees thick wooden growths sprout unforgivably through his own stomach and curl to the heavens. It feels as if every wound he has ever received in his lifetime has formed again and reopened simultaneously in this one instant. His soft flesh is tearing, and the wooden pikes are stained burgundy against a grey sky.

He throws his head back and gasps sharply, but doesn't scream. Blood fills his lungs, ears ring, noise blurs around him, and he sees red, like fire. He does not feel as his knees hit the ground and a warm body catches his frame, while startled sky blue eyes stare at him in wonder.

Neji's vision adjusts.

Hinata-sama, with strings of plum-colored hair plastered on her cheeks, cries silently with wide unblinking eyes, her mouth open. A small hand instinctively curls up to shield her bottom lip.

Uzumaki Naruto, the dead-last, the moron—Neji's saviour —shivers. He grips Neji's shoulders powerfully, encircling him with strong arms. Neji trembles along with him, like a small withered leaf on a branch during the last day of autumn. Red pools around Neji's feet, and the metallic taste of blood saturates his tongue as it dribbles over his chin. He knows it will stain Naruto's orange jumpsuit and will dry and never come out. He tries in vain to lift his head. The blood continues to stick and congeal. His Hyuuga blood, on Naruto's clothing.

Neji didn't think it would end like this for him, ever.

But reality is reality, and the fact is, he reacted instinctively, and his body was there before he knew it.

That's all there is to it.

Whether he is dying for a reason or not, Neji doesn't think it matters anymore. Whether he is dying for his clan or for Naruto, he knows that his beliefs are what compelled him to do it, and nothing else. And regardless of whether or not there was anything more to be done in life, regardless of the imperfection of the situation, the complete horror and absurdity of death and dying, the wasted potential, the messiness of blood, the few exchanged words—

Neji knows that what he did was something meaningful. He could be sure of that.

The ringing in his ears persists.

Despite that, Neji feels a burst of euphoria as his lips move on their own accord. He doesn't need to think as the words he says come from his heart, his lips moving methodically through shaky breaths, with phrases whispered softly like a mantra against the shell of Naruto's ear. Neji sees his pale cousin, and behind her, a scene of war, dust and debris contrasting with her naturally gentle face.

Neji tells Naruto what he has known for a long time.

Naruto must live, he says.

He can feel his father's words spilling from his lips as he tells Naruto to cling to life for the sake of others.

Neji smiles. The pain in his gut sharpens.

The trembling in Naruto's frame becomes more violent, and through the ringing, Neji hears the words "why" and "your life" and "for me" in the husky, raspy timbre of Naruto's voice, and at once, Neji responds the way he knows how to, in short, practical sentences, looking at his cousin's small, tear-stained face as he automatically answers. His voice sounds alien and distant as his lips form the words slowly and carefully.

"Because...I was called a genius..."

And Neji knows it's more than that.

What he wants to say to Naruto is: "because you showed me light," "because I know that I am my own person," "because I have been able to carve out an identity for myself," "because wounds heal, and friends last"—

"Because I chose."

And he knows the language and words he says now can never fully encapsulate the feelings he has, as something deep within him surges and swells above and beyond anything and everything he has ever felt before—

Neji lowers his eyes, and inky strands of his long hair obscure his vision as the rocky ground beyond Naruto's shoulder begins to fade. The blood collecting in his mouth gurgles in hot puddles, curdling at the back of his throat as it becomes harder to breathe.

All at once, the images start coming like a barrage, and life's moments flash briefly and vividly, like wild cards thrown in front of his eyes.

Neji remembers the small clearing where he saw the eighth bird in a flock, the day when he met his teammates for the first time, green jump suits and warm servings of curry, his father's smile, hot bowls of herring soba on cold winters, a peaceful veranda where he would meditate on early foggy mornings, Hinata-sama training in the Hyuuga family compound, his uncle Hiashi-sama on the ground kneeling in apology after the Chuunin Exams, and Naruto as a twelve-year-old boy, grinning, his fist raised high towards the sun...

After an indeterminate amount of time, Neji feels his head get lighter as something unlocks within his mind, and all of a sudden, he's floating beyond the world, the chaos and meaninglessness; the Juubi nothing more than a field of energy dissipating, his comrades fading to white.

Neji cannot feel Naruto's warmth and trembling body anymore.

Instead, he is suspended in purity, a white blank slate, as white as the irises of the Hyuuga. He crosses over the border, floating freely, slowly, until his surroundings dissolve to nothingness.

After a few moments, Neji decides he is happy and falls freely in the void.

Small specks of light in his empty surroundings start to shine from all directions, enveloping him. Souls from different ages and worlds float past him. He embraces the peace, making his way on some undetermined path, wandering aimlessly.

Only when he stops to look does Neji see a man in simple garb with white, clear eyes, a pale aquiline nose and a mouth just like his own. In a way completely uncharacteristic of his temperament during his seventeen years of life, Neji smiles brightly in recognition.

The man nods, returning Neji's smile with one of his own, his black curtain of hair pushed back to reveal a white, unblemished forehead. He beckons.

There is no need for words. Neji breaks into a run.

Reaching the man, Neji follows him slowly, as they walk together in the white.

Until there is nothing more but freedom in death.

Akimoto

A/N.

So wow. I came back after a break from life an work just to write this. I just had to. Mistakes are in here. Tell me. Too lazy to check. Appreciate it if you spread this story around and stuff. Shameless advertising ftw.


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